


Belonging and Longing

by notenoughtogivebread



Series: Klaine Advent 2013 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:23:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughtogivebread/pseuds/notenoughtogivebread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Klaine Advent 2013. Kurt musing on gratitude and friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belonging and Longing

The late afternoon sun reached deep into the loft, all the way to his quiet corner. Kurt set the alarm–it wouldn’t do for this cat nap to make him late for his 8 to midnight shift at the diner–then dug through the bedside drawer for the sleep mask.  
He was bone-tired; dance first thing followed by hours of classroom work left him sore, with stiffness in his shoulders and tight hams. He rolled onto his back and lifted his legs, pointing his toes at the ceiling, stretching the hamstrings, trying to quiet his mind. He pushed away the always-present To Do list that niggled at him, and tried the gratitude exercise Blaine had sent a link to.  
He drifted, hearing the sounds coming up from the streets through the transom window by the kitchen that Rachel had opened “to bring the spring in.” See, that was something to be grateful for–the birdsong from yesterday morning. Rachel and he had been shuffling around each other in the kitchen, preparing breakfast when the trills and tweets sounded through the window, over the rush of traffic from the nearby avenue. The saucy mockingbird song broke through the fog of their pre-caffeine morning. Rachel squealed and hugged him, claiming it as a good omen: “It’s all about new starts, new life, Kurt. I’ll bet those birds are building a nest right out there, making themselves at home in the city just like we have. It’s a good thing, right?”  
So, yes, Rachel smiling again was one for the gratitude journal. As was this bed, this corner of New York that he had made his personal haven–the cool sheets and lightweight blanket, the rechristened Bruce-Blaine pillow wearing the shirt Blaine had slept in last weekend. He turned his head into the boyfriend pillow and let himself relax into thanks for his boy. Soon spring would be summer, and then Blaine would be here, in the place where he belonged…  
The sun shrunk away, and it was to a graying loft that he woke at the sound of the loft door’s slide and Santana calling out, “Hey, Kurt! Can you come heat up that leftover lasagne again? Can we have a salad with? ‘Cause I need a shower–no, two showers–after that skeezy laundromat. But I’m starving too.”  
“Coming,” he groaned out as he stood. He looked out through the curtain to see her lowering the laundry basket to the floor, lifting three now-clean work uniforms from the top.  
“Oh. Santana, you’re the best! I thought my stain stick and I could make one more shift in that uniform, but I really didn’t want to.”  
She shrugged, but he saw a flash of her dark eyes, pleased, before she turned away, basket in her arms. And he thought of another thing to be grateful for–that this fierce girl was in his life, taking care. He was so adding extra croutons to her salad.


End file.
